Hellis

Ukrain

The protests started before that. It turned violent when the goverment basicly tried to outlaw protesting. But there is a clause in Ukranian law that goes :"If The Man says you cannot protest, shit be wacked, fight the popo".

And then they did.

Ukrain

Becouse deportation solves shit? lol. However, Putin has been muscling so much influence onto neigbouring countries for so long, there has to be reprecussions sooner or later. Russia is getting ballsier and ballsier. The blackmailed Ukraining goverment to backing out from deals with the EU. That's what started this shit. And Ukraine is a warzone at this point.

The Heavens Aflame - A Civil War Amongst the Deities

>_> ah. That is true. Had i not already taken a liking to my character so much I would have changed him to be less outcastish. I should have taken a look at what we needed more.

The Heavens Aflame - A Civil War Amongst the Deities

I just posted a WIP of my God of Desperation, Shadows, Darkness and Rebellion.

The Heavens Aflame - A Civil War Amongst the Deities

Name:Lefredias



Titles: The Dagger in The Dark. The Shadow of Ambition, The Promised one, The Everchanging, The Prince of Change.
Gender : Often Male, some mortals believes him to be a woman due to his fairness and androgynous looks.
Patronage:  Desperation, Misdeeds, Shadows, Darkness, Uncertainty, Change, Maleficence and Rebellion
Parentage: Lefredias was born from the shadows of the now dead God-King. He climbed and clawed himself free of the Gods shadow with eyes brimming with maleficent darkness and his naked form was wrapped with fires that burned all but himself. He was cast out of the Pantheon as he was believed to be the child of the the gods many darker sides.

Pantheon/Affiliation: Disgraced Diety of the current Pantheon
.
Appearance:
Lefridas have two main forms:

The Prince of Change:

Lefredias take the shape of a androgynous man, with hair that reaches past his shoulders and shifts between black, green and red, a testament to his unstable nature. His face is that of deceptive beauty and but for a mortal to stare at it for to long that beauty turns it into a horrid visage of twisted shadows that drive them mad. To prevent this, he often wear a white porcelain mask in visions. His body seems deceptively frail at first look, his arms and legs slender. But he is no weakling, for he carries himself like only a god could. His eyes are red but with all things Lefridias, they warp and change. They turn black or green and sometimes they are white like that of a blind man. His teeth are always jagged and sharp, like that of a shark.

His clothes are always in dark colors that also seem to shift. The way they cling to his body it seems like shadows or dark flames are constantly devouring his body. He is at once alluring and promising but appalling and off putting to the point where it's hard to stay to long in his presence. Every step he takes makes wisps of black fire and shadow rise from underneath his feet.

The Promised One.

Another common shape is that of a black haired man with mighty, giant raven wings and horns.

This form is far less off putting in that it is at least stable in it's presence. But it has none of the strange allure and is instead magnificently grandiose. His wings are massive, with a wingspan of over 5 meter, his own frame is well above 2 meters and his jet black hair reaching almost down to his waste. His eyes are black, there is no white and there is no pupils. His voice is low as a whisper but can be heard by anyone looking directly at him. He has a aura of turbulence about him, as if the air itself is upset with his presence and the same black fires that shrouds part of his other form tend to appear is big, thick wisps of dark heat around his head, sometimes lighting his hair on fire but without actually burning anything.

Centres of Worship/Places of Power:

Most places of worship for Lefredias are places of deep shadows and darkness directly related to a servants place of power such as a secret room below a palace or in the shadows of a mountain temple. This is both symbolic to how Lefredias live in the shadow of other gods, and related to his servants desire to usurp their “betters”.

Servants, Prominent Followers and Worship Base:[/b]
The people who turn to Lefridas are typically outcast from their society in one way or another such as bastard heirs and marginalized poor people who turn to the sword for retribution. As a god of all things ever changing and shifting, his followers hope for guidance in overthrowing and usurping those that live better lives then themselves. His most loyal servants are would be revolutionaries that kill the wealthy and sabotage the holdings of those in power. As such, they are generally seen as a menace. But he has worshipers in high places amongst the most civilized of cities, because he is a being of Ambition and his machinations affect politicians everywhere. Many pray to him in vain attempts to prevent the people from turning on them.

In other, less civilized areas, he is heralded as the Prince of Change. His statues are shown out in the open, in hope to end stagnation and turn the tides if they prove unfavorable. Powerful sects dedicate their lives to him in exchange for the power to overturn the the things that oppress them, be it other tribes or followers of different gods.

Psychology:
Ambition and a sense of entitlement drives Lefredias. He has been known to meddle in very delicate situation in order to press other deities into disadvantages by compromising promising followers of their various temples and sects. He is, has his domain says, Maleficent and desperate, incredibly difficult to read or predict.

History:
Born out of shadow, woven together by the rampart desire of gods then cast aside for what he represent. The god Lefredias creation was hardly a occasion of joy and celebration. But it was not the only event of it's sort and there are creatures far more vile them him in the world. the King of Gods simply did not appreciate what he saw in the young divine being before him. No King would enjoy the sight of Rebellion made flesh after all. He cast this creation out from the light that was divinity and into the shadows from which Lefredias had been born, and where the king believed Lefredias to belong.

But foolish is the king that let's the vengeful stir in peace. Lefredias embraced the shadows and the darkness. His hatred spurred him to appear in visions of those that doubted the current Pantheon and their gods. He appeared as a he was, impossibly fair but warped by his own unstable nature. His visage drew priests mad in their temples, he sowed doubt and uncertainty amongst the followers of the established gods. His first followers where those on the outside of the cities, the poor downtrodden farmers of starving farms and villages to heavily taxed to make it another winter. People who felt that the gods had abandoned them.

To them he was the promise of change. And change he brought, with voice of revolution for those brave enough to embrace him and flocks of crows that ate the harvest of those that did not listen. He found the most inspiring ones, he talked to them in dreams, hidden behind his mask of porcelain. He told them of their kings insecurity, of their cruelty and how to exploit it. He showed them the Darkness and how to best harness it. He showed them secret passages beneath the palace and sowed more doubt into the regents of the land. His acolytes then rallied the villages around the great cities and marched towards them with a burning rage only they could posses. The streets where as bathed in blood and the fires that raged that night were strange and black. When peace finally settled, the body count was horrid and most of the revolutionaries and nobles were all dead. But they had embraced their new god, and their legacy would cement Lefredias as a true god, regardless of the others disdain.

He reveled in the uncertainty that was the aftermath, he used it to manipulate and lead astray followers of other gods, he made them desecrate temples and cast off the shackles of rigid worship just so they would take up worshiping him and his ways. He made them build secret shrines and he whispered in their ears the promises of change. The poor and downtrodden on the streets, the beggars and filthy would flock to his shrines and ask for his blessings. And he would bestow them on those with promise, he would manipulate things in such a way one beggar came upon riches and power, see him rise to become powerful and make sure he never forgot his Patron God. And trough such machinations the god of Rebellion and Change became anchored into even the most stalwart of political bastions. Because what the politicians fear the most is a rebellion and begging the god of Shadows to protect him from the bloodthirsty masses seems only prudent.

With the death of the old King of Gods, the winds of revolution has taken hold of the world and Lefredias soars higher then ever before. To him, he is without adversary, the time for his retribution is nigh and so he makes his bid for power, with the Darkness and the Shadows sweeping his places of power in a shroud as he plots and he schemes.

Relationships:
Lefredias hated the old god king with the entirety of his being, he loathes those that would have him cast back into darkness. But unlike the terrible legends about him, Lefredias is not without a soul. He is not entirely cold of heart yet. And as such he actually harbors more then hatred in his heart.

Hero's Legacy: Initiation [OOC]

Today was a good day the boy with the starkwhite skin said to himself as he took aim. He mouthed the words as he squeezed the trigger.“Pow.” The beam of highly intense and focused energy cut trough the targets center, like a hot knife trough butter. He smiled and aimed at the next target “Pow.” Dead center, full score, the crowd goes wild. If there was a crowd that is, there wasn't. Unlike many other heroes he did not have fanclubs, inherited riches or a big following. He didn't have a fancy earthling career or billions of dollars. He was a 'humble' Liason of the Galactic Rangers. With a rifle, that he could shoot the head of a bird with from god knows how far away. Zel hit a button and four more target plopped up “Pow!” Dead center again. “Pow!” A smoking hole in the middle “Pow!” Right between the eyes “pew!” The last shot hits off center by three inches as his com suddenly comes alive. He swears loudly in his rustic, very stoic language and look at the com.

“Shit” He stares at the sign. It reads: 'Meeting in 10 minutes' with giant red letters. He is of to a running start seconds later. He is fast, way faster then the average human, human athletes would struggle to keep up with his inhuman physiology. And currently those legs were doing work¨. It was putting the galactic daredevil on every track teams radar no doubt but he didn't have time to worry about details. He bounded over a bicycle with ease, no doub scaring the owner of said bicycle half to death before bolting over to his trusty motorcycle. He was indeed, a intergalactic cowboy on a bike. He speed off to the meeting.

His journey was somewhat event less, he parked his bike just as he saw Siren pull in and gave her a wave. The carbine was as per usual strapped onto his back.

The Heavens Aflame - A Civil War Amongst the Deities

God of Maleficence and Deceit.... That is what I see myself draw to. Is it taken yet?

Rum and Madness

Name: Horacio Engdal
Gender: Male
Age:31
Faction: Torn Sails
Deity: Hecate (Greek Pagan)
Skills:
Cult Hunter: The great skills of Torn Sail members varies a lot. Horacio has dedicated the past 7 years reading every single note and book the Torn sails can provide him on different cults, dwelling far to much on their operations and methods that is good for his own sanity. He hunts cultists most relentlessly, retracing their steps and getting into their dens guns blazing. Cult hunters are rarely long lived for this very reason.

Minor:
Sailing: He is accomplished sailor. He can man almost any position on deck.
Swashbuckling: He used to belong on a ships boarding crew for a reason.

Background; Horacio Engdal is a sailor formerly of the Swedish crown. But his story began far earlier then his first day on shaky legs on a wooden hull out in the Baltic Sea. His story began as a ever bright blue eyed boy in Stockholms slums. He was born to a poor shoemaker named Gustav Engdal who always dreamed big. His son, the only to survive past the first year, he named him Horacio, after the famed roman poet. His father was not illiterate unlike most of his kin, no he took proud in knowing both latin, swedish and even some english. And he taught his son, with discipline and a heavy hand if he had to. The result was a little runt with a mouth that could swear and sweet talk in no less then three languages.

Indeed, his talents came as a natural boost to a almost dangerous charisma. The boy was a natural talented beggar and pickpocket but also a very talented young conartist. He ran the streets with other young boys, ducking city guards as they knew full well what happened to thieves, regardless of their age. His father and mother would beat him, wanting him to see sense but it was all for naught. At the age of 13 he would have to leave his home for all time, after almost being caught stealing from a noble. He somehow managed to bribe his way on board a Prussian ship and left Stockholm a malnourished but eager apprentice on board. He was not yet a man, and the life as a cabinboy was hard. Sailors were not fair folk, they swore and kicked him around and his first month onboard was hell. But he adapted, he learned and became more and more usefull. The ship was only his first vessel. At the age of 20 he returned to Swedish docks. His family was now all dead, having died from poverty and sickness without their sons helping hand.

While he felt a little guilty, he did not stay to ponder. Instead, he found service on a Swedish warship. By now he was a experienced sailor despite his age and he traversed with the giant ship inot battle. In 1790 the Battle for Svensksund ended the Sweden-Russian war once and for all. The greatest victory of Swedish Naval warfare was now a fact. And survivors like Horacio either climbed the ranks quickly or became sought after by other, less savory types. Horacio found himself on a galley as a Privateer of the Norwegian coast. Mainly raiding Danish and English ships. One day his ship came upon a drifting, black vessel. Climbing onboard, they found that everything was soaked with blood, bits and pieces of struggle could be seen but no bodies. The captain was exctatic, the ship was mostly unharmed. If he manned it they could return it to Swedish shores and have it fitted. It would be the haul of the their life. Sadly, the crew was spooked and rightly so. A unnatural storm befell them and in the brief flashes of light that the fire of lightning provided, inhuman beings could be seen. When the storm was over, Horacio sat covering in a corner, their captain and half the crew was dead and gone. They barely made it home. None would believe their stories, and he along with most survivors were believed mad or became the laughingstock of the docks.

Horacio spent 1 year in the gutter when a similair ship came to port. The captain seemingly sught him up specifically. He was Benedict Troelger, captain of the “Dark Drake.” He asked the boy what he was looking at shadows as if they would kill him. Horacio told the man his story and the Captain knew he had found the man he had been looking for. He explained to Horacio that the ship had been a trap, a altar if you will. It drifted in place, luring sailors, often privateers and pirates to board it. And then the uneasy dead on board tear the living apart as living sacrifices . The captain offered Horacio the chance to learn more, to still his terror and get revenge. And so Horacio excepted, joined the Torn sails and the rest is as they say; History.

The Heavens Aflame - A Civil War Amongst the Deities

DO you still have room for another player?

Rum and Madness

sounds solid to me Seuss.